Reappearing Faces
by Anglerwitchy
Summary: It's three years after the Battle of Hogwarts, three years for people to rebuild their lives and move on. But, for Harry and his friends, it should be expected that nothing is ever that easy. Suddenly pulled into a different world by people eerily similar to their loved ones, they must fight in a new war, or they may never return home. Harry Potter AU
1. Chapter 1

The room was shrouded in thick shadows, the only source of light a pulsing blue pool that sat in the center of the room. A light smoke, colored in rainbow hues, drifted up from the surface. Soft whispers ran throughout the room, hisses whose words were indiscernible. A sharp pop echoed as a solitary figure appeared in the room, cloaked in rich velvet. They slowly approached the pool, seemingly deep in thought. Gazing within the depths, they reached out one lone hand, gloved in dragon skin, and dropped a white flower into the water. It floated on the surface, shimmering slightly. There was a gold flash of light, and the white flower morphed into a dead bird, feathers stained rich red and shimmering with pure magic. They made a small grunt, then stooped down, and dipped a crystal vial into the glimmering liquid. They paused, for a moment, hand suspended over the pool. Their fingers tightened on the vial, tipping it slightly, then they quickly stood up. Capping the vial,they disappeared with a soft pop. The room was left alone, still silent, except for the faint murmurs. But, for a moment, the voices cleared, and a single phrase was heard, a reedy whisper, that crackled in the darkness. "Futura, praeterita obliviscentes in ea Sequetur."

A cacophony of shouts rang out as the Harry stepped down from the podium, flashing lights capturing the stern look upon his face as he walked away from the crowd of reporters. The oaken doors swung open, and, as the questions were left behind him, the stern look upon his face faded, revealing an expression much more open, and worn than the one he projected in front of the crowd. Still, he walked with purpose down the hall, shifting a long wand from inside his sleeve into his hand.

"They didn't take it well." This was said as more of a statement than a question. He swung around to see the smiling face of his friend Ron, who was flanked by another auror recruit who seemed awestruck in their presence. Seeing the savior himself, she squeaked out an excuse and scurried away. Harry gave a forced grin.

"I don't think anyone would take those news well." He ran his hand through his already messy hair. "That's the third death eater attack this week"

Ron shook his head. "Merlin, you'd think that they'd give up after Voldy's been dead for two years." He laughed slightly, then looked closer at his friend's despondent expression. Ron tapped Harry on the shoulder. "Hey, it's not your fault. You've done more than anyone else to stop them" Ron knew that look on Harry's face, the one where he started to seep into regret and depression.

"I just, for some reason I thought that after Voldemort was dead," A passing by secretary flinched at the sound of Harry saying his name, "That all of the trouble would be over. No more death eaters, no more life threatening stunts every other day." Harry shrugged.

"Well, mate, you did become an auror. That is part of the job description." Ron quipped. Harry laughed, and continued walking down the hall.

"So, how's Hermione." Harry watched as his friends face grew bright red.

"She's fine."

"Just fine?" Harry grinned.

"Welllll..." Ron shifted uncomfortably, then dragged him off to the side. He glanced, from side to side, then slid a small box from the folds of his robes.

"Well, I was wondering when you would get around to asking her" Harry patted his friend on his back.

Ron groaned."But, what if.."

"She says no? Ron, really, anyone can see that she's in love with you." Ron squeezed the box tightly in his hand. "I dunno, I bet I'll find some way to mess it all up."

"Yeah, probably, but that's what she likes about you." Harry said, Ron's face now staining to the color of a ripe tomato. He quickly put the ring back in his pocket.

"Well, you can't really say anything until you ask Ginny." Ron paused, "Actually, she's probably the one who would ask." He checked his watch, and cursed under his breath. "Sorry mate, I've got to go."

Harry waved off his concern. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. He watched as the red-haired figure faded into the crowd. His anxiety, lessened during his conversation, now returned full force, churning his stomach

He walked down the hall, grimacing at the whispers that followed his steps. He quickly stepped into the restroom, hoping that no fans would follow him in, begging for an autograph. The sounds of rushing water filled the empty room, as he splashed his face, relaxing as the stress of the day seemed to flee his body and remain outside in the hallway, amidst the bustling crowds of the ministry.

He glanced upward at his face, and paused. There, next to his eye, there was a small, light blue fleck. It seemed to glimmer with its own light. He brushed his finger across it, but it stayed firmly in place. He shook his head. Probably Ron with George's pranks. He stepped towards the door, when a strange, icy, feeling washed over him, seeming to seep into his bones. It almost felt like a dementor, but that was impossible- there seemed to be a flash of light across his eyes, blindingly white.

Then came the pain.

It hit his stomach with sharp needles, riding up his arms and legs in a blistering fire. His stomach felt hollow, every food-less night in the cupboard condensed and intensified, like his inside were tearing themselves apart. He gritted his teeth, the sharp tang of blood filling his mouth as he bit his tongue. His legs shook, and each scar on his body burned with unimaginable pain, from the blood-quill engraved words on his hand- her high pitched voice rang through his ears- to the dull throbbing of one lightning shaped scar on his head. This filled him with terror- was Voldemort still alive somehow? Slumping against the sink, he raised his wand shakily, and froze, staring at his hand. There were cracks snaking up his tan skin, that shone a light, sapphire blue. Tendrils seemed to sweep up to touch his face, and all around him there was a strange whispering, almost imperceptible, that was slowly growing louder. He spun around, eyes taking in the reflection in front of him, the burning pain growing ever stronger as it spread throughout his body. The cracks were growing, leaching across his face, skin flaking away. It was too much. He screamed through gritted teeth as darkness drifted across his vision, his last sight being the green of his mother's eyes turning a bright sky blue, and haunting voices filling his ears.

Then there was nothing

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Ron ran down the hall, muttering apologies to the various worker he bumped into. Merlin, he was so nervous, and he knew it showed it. He couldn't even get a cup of coffee without spilling it. His mind was filled with plans for that night- a trip to Miones favorite restaurant, then a walk in the park she played in as a child. He had already asked her parents, and they gave him- he slammed into a body, papers flying like a flock of birds around them as they fell to the ground. Ron fumbled out an apology, quickly picking up the papers surrounding them.

"Ron, just breathe." He glanced up to see the bespectacled face of his brother Percy.

"Oh, hi Perc."

"It's Percy"

"Yeah, sorry about that." He held out the paper he had picked up, watching his brother's reaction. Percy grabbed them from his hand

"No, it's fine. I should have been watching where I was going anyways." Percy replied, then seemed to pause. "Um, Ron, what is on your face?"

Ron's face morphed in confusion. "Perce, what are you talking about?" He lifted his hand up to touch his cheek, and, suddenly, cold air seemed to envelope his body, icy fingers brushing up and down his spine. "Bloody hell, it just got really cold in here."

Percy glanced at him. "Ron, what are you talking about?"

Ron shivered slightly."You really can't feel that?" He would've continued his sentence, if a bright flash of light hadn't filled his vision. "What?" Ron's voice seemed to slur, then he fell to the ground. A sickening feeling filled him, as if maggots had wormed their way under his flesh, and now were gnawing through his muscles and bones. They wove through his limbs, growing in length until they wrapped around like tentacles.

"Ron! RON!" A voice swam its way through the haze in his mind, and he wrenched his eyes open, blurry colors wavering in front of him like a Matisse painting. Time seemed to slow, each breath clearly felt, each heart beat. He tried to reach up to Percy's face, whose terror was now clear. There was a heartbeat of nothingness, no feeling, no sound.

A spark ignited

It grew deep inside him, and then it spread. Running along arteries, veins, each nerve set alight with fire. A grating laugh echoed around him, as his limbs spasmed and flailed, trying to scream but his throat was closed and no sound could escape his lips. It coalesced in his heart, the pain blackening his eyes and crisping his skin. Then it exploded in a bright blue light, skin shredded, bones shattered and splintered, only pain. Inky blackness swept over him, and he knew no more.

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Hermione never shied away from hard work. In fact, she was considered the brightest witch of her age, and that wasn't achieved by just waiting around.

The same could not be said for her coworker, one Avan Revere. Her eyes darted across the messy desk in front of her, taking in the coffee stains and chocolate frog wrappers strewn haphazardly. That wasn't what truly annoyed her- Ron and Harry's opinion of cleanliness had prepared her for anything, not to mention that state of the twins room. No, what truly annoyed her was the towering pile of to-do work that created a small mountain on this man's desk. Clenched in her hand was one such piece of paper work that was from one YEAR ago. But she couldn't really do anything about it. Oh, she had asked him, quite politely in fact, but he dismissed her with a slight sneer and "All good things take time." She had gone to the "boss" of her section but, with Revere being his great nephew, he denied her claims outright. She turned away from the desk, a beginning of a headache growing at her temples. Her hope was to get the Centaur Rights Act proposal finished before her break. She approached her desk, hand already reaching for a new sheet of parchment, when a chill came over the room, freezing her in her tracks.

In front of her, her breath coalesced into white fog, and she whipped out her wand, the beginning syllable of Expecto Patronum upon her lips. A flash of light filled the room. Mind racing, she tried to spot an attacker, and a slow pain began to grow, pulsing with her heartbeat, on her forearm. The terror began to rise up, bursts of panic she tried to contain, but then the pain sizzled through her, arcs of lightning dancing from her brain to her heart, the sharp gnawing cuts bringing up memories long concealed except for the dark of night.

A crazed laugh, the pain, throbbing, flashing.

She couldn't move.

She couldn't think.

She could only scream as she heard Ron cry out her name from the basement from Malfoy Manor.

She felt the cold steel upon her arm, MUDBLOOD, red dripping slowly, tears streaming down her face.

And the terror that she was going to die, no matter how much she fought

She screamed, long and loud, hoping someone, anyone, could help her, hear her cry, hand still clenched on her wand

There was one last flash of light, bright, sharp blue, and she fell into endless night.

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Her hand twisted the dark velvet of her cloak, knuckles whitening to a pale bone white. Thoughts raced through her head, questions, worries, all jumbled together, causing her heart to race and breath to quicken. A hand grabbed hers, rough and calloused. She glanced up, seeing the smiling face of her husband. He leaned close to her

"Everything will be fine, Lily Flower" His words did little to quell her fears, so instead of responding she laid against his shoulder, breathing deeply.

The room was filled with people, cloaked in a variety of colors. In a corner stood Sirius Black, individual with his leather jacket, deep in conversation with one Remus Lupin. Alice Longbottom held out a wand to Marlene McKinnon, who she herself had accidentally disarmed when McKinnon tapped her shoulder. Mad-Moody glared at any who dared come near him, but one Gregory Germaine ignored the warnings and ignited a conversation about grindylows. Minerva McGonagall sat in one of the plush chairs, and in a less comfortable one sat Arthur Weasley, worry clearly written on his face, as they whispered to one another . There were many others who, like Germaine, had joined in the last year, most straight out of Hogwarts. Few of the original members wanted people that young to join, but with dwindling forces they didn't have any choice. Voldemort was a threat to everyone, and they had to stop him.

In the front of the room a door creaked open, and a figure, wearing star-patterned robes stepped into the room. The voices muttering throughout the room slowly quieted, as attention was focused on Albus Dumbledore, leader of the Order of the Phoenix. He cleared his throat.

"Welcome, everyone, to this meeting of the Order. Now, to start, " His eyes focused on a red haired man. "Arthur." The man jerked in surprise, then walked to the front of the room. He hesitated for a moment, rubbing his eyes, then spoke.

"The Minister has begun to implement the Unification Laws. As you all know, these laws were made by supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, to begin the removal of muggleborns from wizarding life. So far, they have significantly complicated the process any Muggle-born witch or wizard would complete to get a usual job, essentially leaving them unemployable. Additionally, they have begun putting traces on all Muggle-Borns wands." Murmurs and curses filled the room at this news. "This is just the beginning," continued Arthur. "Through my source in the ministry, I have found out they will begin a law titled "The Pure Continuation", which will pave the way for the legalization of the collection of muggle borns, imprisoning them if they go against Pureblood ideals, along with legalizing the torture of muggleborns." For a moment there was silence, as everyone digested this, when huge clamour rose in the room, people shouting, anger filling the room and uncontrolled magic crackling through the air.

A loud bang silenced all of the noise. Dumbledore stood with his wand outstretched, smoke curling from the tip.

"They can't do that!" Sirius broke in, "That's, it's, fucking..."

"Insane. That's what it is." Remus finished for him. "But it's exactly what the Death Eater would do. Now they can imprison any Muggleborns, as long as they say the defiled magical traditions," He swallowed nervously. "Once they are taken away, there is no stopping the Death Eaters from killing them, and writing it off as an accident."

Arthur nodded to Remus's observation, then spoke. "The torture laws, I believe, will begin in the next month. That is all the information I have for now."

McGonagall rose from her seat as Arthur exited the platform. "A student was attacked at Hogwarts. A muggle-born, 6th year." Her lips pursed, as she paused, "a Gryffindor. We...were too late. The spells used against her were Dark Magic. They mutilated her, the poor girl, fingers degloved, mudblood carved into her face and chest, wounds like I have never seen" Her eyes began to water, but she quickly composed herself.

"What was her name?" Alice Longbottom glanced up, eyes glassy with tears. Her hand trembled as she clenched her wand.

"Hermione Granger." It seemed painful for her to speak the words.

They sat silently for a moment, remembering a girl few of them had actually met.

"This is the third extreme muggle-born attack this month." A young Hufflepuff said, eyes wide beneath her glasses. "Do we have any idea who did it?" Her voice sounded desperate, hoping for some good news. McGonagall shook her head.

"It was probably one of those dirty Death Eater Slytherins." Sirius spat out.

"If you keep following those prejudices, boy, you will be dead before you step into battle." Mad-Eye Moody growled from the corner. "Anyone could be a enemy. Constant Vigilance!"

His eye spun wildly in its socket as he looked around the room.

Lily wasn't listening, though. She could feel Dumbledore's eyes on her, she knew what was coming next. She was beyond terrified of it, she wished she had never found it.

But it was too late now.

A soft voice spoke out. "What are we going to do?"

Dumbledore spoke, eyes twinkling. "To answer your question, Ms. Smithson, I believe that Mrs. Potter has found a way to help us."

All eyes turned to her. _Damn you, Dumbledore!_ she yelled in her head, as she shakily walked to the front of the room. He could've at least introduced the idea before Lily herself got up there. She cleared her throat, and began to speak.

"Whilst looking through some ancient scrolls four months ago, I found something….strange. It was a ritual, but one unlike any I have seen before. With Albus' help, we were able to translate it. What we found…" She paused for a moment. "It was used to summon a hero, one from another world." Mutters started to spread across the room. "The hero that they summoned would be able to defeat their greatest enemy, because they had once done it before."

"Wait, are you saying that this ritual-thing will bring someone who has already fought Voldemort, and _won,_ to our world? How does that even work?" Sirius commented disbelievingly, yet there was also a tinge of excitement in his voice.

"I, honestly I'm not quite positive myself. I have gotten all of the ingredients and spells we need, so all we need to do is vote." She kept her face passive, but her heart jumped as she said the last few words. "Since Dumbledore and I found this spell, we will not be participating in the vote." A deep breath in, and out.

"How do we know that this will work?" It was Alice Longbottom who spoke. "What if they defeated Voldemort because they were more evil than him! We could be bringing an even worse dark lord to this world." Her voice was icy as she ended the sentence, blue eyes staring intensely at Lily.

"What else can we do!" Sirius exclaimed. "There have been too many deaths, and we can't stop it. I say, we bring this person. If they are evil, well," He paused, narrowing his eyes, "Then we can kill them."

"Well then," Dumbledore broke in, "Shall we begin. Raise your with a red light if you wish to complete the ritual, or a blue light, if you are against it." He stepped backwards slightly, and Lily stood still, staring across the room. It started slowly, the lights going up, the more and more rose until every wand was lifted toward the ceiling. The answer was clear, and Lily knew what was chosen even without counting.

There was no going back now.


	2. Chapter 2

A bright flash of light filled the room, causing the people inside to flinch, and bend over in pain. A low keening sound began to echo, along with faint whispers. Lily sat huddled in the corner, hand covering her eyes as tears slowly slid down her face. She hated getting so emotional, yet she knew that something was going to happen, something that would hurt everyone here. She told Dumbledore that this ritual was a bad idea, but...no. Breathe. Calm down Lily. She shook her head, the light creating a slow burning across her skin as she tried to relax. It seemed to shine through her hand, impossibly bright. The sound was growing louder, filling her head until all thought was forced away, pain running through her. Then, suddenly, everything stopped. There was only dead silence, and pure blackness, the lights on the wall shattered into tiny crystalline shards. A blue orb floated up in the room, shining a faint light across the floors and walls. Dumbledore stood at the head of the room, the other members stumbling up from the ground. His eyes were focused on three figures, lying in the middle of a circle of runes, that weren't there before.

He approached them slowly, as the other members trained their wands on the three people. It was impossible to tell their appearance or gender, as their entire body was covered by a strange purple haze, shimmering slightly. Dumbledore paused, staring down at them. Beside him, Sirius stepped up, confusion contorting his features. He reached down, beginning to cast a spell.

"Rener-" Suddenly a flash of lightning arched out from the mist. Sirius flew backwards and slammed into the wall with a sickening _crunch_.

"Sirius!" James cried, running over to his limp friend. A small gasp escaped her mouth as her husband turned Sirius's body over.

The lightning struck right below his breastbone. She gagged as the smell of burning flesh seared her nostrils.

"Shit.." Sirius groaned out faintly. "That was not fun."

"Get back!" Lily commanded. "NOW!" The small group of onlookers staggered back. "W-we need four people, at least." She swallowed thickly. "We can't use magic on them, we have to carry them."

"It seems that our spell has left a residue of magic on the hero, or rather, heros." Dumbledore commented seriously. As James knelt by Sirius, followed by Alice, already weaving healing spells, Lily sat by the nearest body, her wand left on a table far away. She reached forward, fingers shaking slightly. A faint shock ran through her as her fingers cut through the haze, but nothing like the explosive reaction Sirius had prompted. She tried to fan it away, but it seemed to be impenetrable beyond the first faint layer.

"We have rooms ready to question them in." McGonagall stepped up. "Moody recommended putting each of them in separate rooms." Lily barely seemed to hear her, but she did hear footsteps approaching her from behind.

"I assume there is no way to ascertain their identity." Dumbledore's voice floated past her ears. She shook her head slightly.

"Very well." He stood up and addressed the room. "Remus, Alice, could you bring Sirius to a more comfortable setting?" They both nodded in response, as Dumbledore turned to the others. "Now, we need some volunteers to bring these people up to the rooms before they wake up." The room, which was practically silent, now began to fill with movement, as people assigned each other jobs and responsibilities, except for two lone people who went to the corner of the room. Dumbledore breathed deeply as Lily stared at him.

"The spell was only supposed to bring one hero, not three." She said, panic slightly infecting her voice. She calmed herself and continued. "What does this mean? Did something go wrong?" She twisted her hair around her fingers. Dumbledore looked unusually grave.

"I am afraid I'm not sure." He stared across the room as the other members of the order carried the prone figures out of the room. "We will have to wait until they wake up."

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Hermione woke up slowly, her mind caught in a haze of numbing fog. What had happened? She blinked her eyes groggily, trying to recall the moments leading up to this. She moved her hand to rub her face, but was halted by a band clenched around her wrist. Her eyes shot open, memories rushing back to her as she struggled to get free. Her arms and legs were bound by dark leather strips, and her skin was crusted with a strange purple substance. Her heart started to pound as she tried to see something within the room, but it seemed to be filled with a inky darkness. She took a deep breath in and out, trying to calm down. Her wand was gone, the familiar holster on her forearm empty. She paused for a moment. There was an odd sound coming from within the darkness, very faint. A clanking echoed, and she watched as a door, previously unseen,slowly swung open. Hermione stiffened, breath catching in a small gasp. The bright light shining silhouetted a cloaked woman, her long hair shimmering slightly with an amber glow. She fought the panic bubbling up her throat, and stared at the approaching figure with steel and fire in her eyes. The woman raised her wand, and the room was engulfed in light.

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Ron woke with a feeling of dread deep in his stomach, the type of feeling he had only received when a loved one was in danger. It felt like he was blind, his eyes stuck shut in blackness. He could feel the rough wood of a chair beneath him, the coarse hemp ropes tied around his wrists and ankles cutting deeply into his flesh. He shifted in his seat, trying to find some weakness to escape, when a voice cut through the darkness.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you." It felt like the voice was right next to his ear, hot breath rolling down his neck. Ron flinched slightly, but, somehow, the voice was familiar. He shook his head slightly, then felt a hand roughly brush over his eyes, letting trickles of light into his sight. He blinked quickly, hoping to find where he was, and who he was with. The blurred mass in front of his eyes focused and cleared, forming the shaped of a scarred man. Ron was speechless, except for one word.

"Fuck."

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Harry woke with a start, heart pounding in his chest. He was bound to a table, iron chains binding him tightly to its cold surface. His eyes darted across the room, trying to find out where he was. It was oddly homey, with rich wooden paneling and mossy green wallpaper. The window was slightly open, and a icy breeze, tinged with the scent of woodsmoke and fresh snow, was blowing inside, although he couldn't see beyond. He froze. Icy breeze? It was spring, in England. Shit.

 _Death Eaters_. The thought froze his heart, but he knew it was the only explanation. He clenched his fist, shifting in his spot. Oddly enough, he could see his wand on the table, still in its holster, along with some of the various knives and potions he kept with him during auror duty. He heard a small noise, barely perceptible, and he swung his head towards it. There was a man in the corner, a hood hiding his face in shadow except for a bearded jaw cut with a sharp scar. Harry glared at him.

"So, you didn't have enough, huh?" Harry spat, venom injecting his words. "He's dead, and you can't change that." The man got up slowly and pointed his wand at Harry.

"Big talk for someone who's tied to a table." They lifted their hood away from their head. The man was young, slightly tanned, with dark brown hair. His skin was scoured with scars, his eyes filled with sorrow and a burning fury. Harry sat emotionless as the man leaned close to his face, opening his mouth to speak.

"Westerly, I thought I told you to get me when he woke up." The man rolled his eyes, leaned backwards, and walked back to his seat, letting Harry get a full view of the man in the doorway. His skin paled as he took in the sight before him, emotions flitting across his features.

"R-Remus?"

AN: Thanks for all of your reviews and follows! This is the first fanfic I've posted, so I was a bit nervous. This story will be updated every other week, since I'm moving towards finals. Once the summer comes around it should change to once a week since I will have more time. Have a nice day everyone, and let me know what thought of this chapter.


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